Should've Been Us
by xmindset
Summary: Maybe taking classes in the summer wouldn't be so bad, but during that summer she wasn't herself. She held herself, her emotions back. So here's some truth and more fantasy. Here's what she wished happened. "Because really it should've been us." T&G
1. Foreword

_Written in Gabriella's POV_

Foreword

Listening to certain bands and artists takes me back to simpler times—simpler times when I had frivolous crushes on boys…or rather, men. It was during college, so I guess someone, somewhere in between boys and men.

While starting my junior year of college, I was obligated to take courses in the summer. Now, I know what you're thinking: _That must be terrible! You wouldn't have fun, going on vacation with family or spending time with friends_. Admittedly, I had that same mindset going into summer semester. But if I could go back, I would change a few things that I did. I would be more confident, avoid 'playing it cool'. I would have been more overt, more flirtatious, more spontaneous, more _me_.

But I wasn't.

So this is how I imagined it could have happened…because really, it should've been _us_.

* * *

 **Author's Note (A/N): Hi everyone. I haven't been back on FF in a long time…but life has given me a reason to write again. I know the HSM community here isn't what it used to be but hello! I'm here to share my stories.**

 **Some of the titles of the chapters and the story title itself are adopted from the musical works of art by Tori Kelly. She's an artist I have followed for a long time, and I am so happy that she's gaining her rightly deserved fame now. Therefore, I wanted to put some of her into my writing. Foreword is the title of her EP. Definitely check it out. "Should've Been Us" is her single out right now.**

 **Please let me know if I should really continue this. I haven't written in a while and am a bit wary and cautious about this one. This little ditty is just a hint of what the story could be about. Feedback is always welcome. x**


	2. Chapter 1: Already blue

**A/N: Like most of my previous stories, I will include a snippet of lyrics from a song. This time around, I will include them at the beginning instead of the end. I highly recommend listening to the song and paying attention to the lyrics and the story they tell. I carefully select the excerpt and put a lot of thought into it before including it in a chapter. Mild spoiler alert, listening to "Should've Been Us" by Tori Kelly may give quite a number of clues, but of course not all, to what the overall story is about. The entire story itself is stand alone to the song.**

 **I know this chapter includes a lot of technicalities and some scientific terminology. I LOVE science. You must understand. Please give me feedback if you listen to the song aforementioned or the song after this author's note AND/OR if you think that the scientific language is too complicated. I can certainly adjust it in the future.**

 **The entire story will be rated T for mainly language and some suggestive themes. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review. It helps A LOT.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Already blue

 _When I first fell into those deep pools in your eyes,_

 _I thought I would be fine but I never really get this feeling in my chest…I_

 _wasn't even looking for you. My skies were already blue…"_

 _-_ "Treasure", Tori Kelly

I opened my eyes to the sound of my cell phone alarm, a not-so-popular pop song that was radio-worthy and catchy, might I add. Now I don't normally listen to pop songs but I just couldn't resist setting it as my ringtone.

I sighed as I forced myself out of bed. Today is the first day of summer semester. I sighed again. The way my university was organized adjusted the school year to have no long breaks, except for winter during the holidays. I had one week prior to the start of summer semester to kick back at home and spend time with friends and family, but that was it.

I hit the ground running by washing my face, glancing at my paler-than-usual complexion in the mirror. The dark circles around my eyes revealing the truth of how late I slept the night before. I brushed my teeth, rinsed my mouth, and returned back in my room to put on some dark wash jeans, a black camisole, and a long-sleeved, collared navy shirt. I adjusted the silver "G" monogrammed necklace my aunt gave me, to appear underneath my collar.

I logged into my Mac and pulled up my class schedule. My first class was later in the day at one o' clock in the afternoon. Putting my laptop aside, I went over to the kitchen in my apartment and poured some cereal into a bowl along with some milk. _Why did I decide to attend this college?_ I lamented to myself. I honestly didn't know that I had to take summer classes when I was a freshman. _Such stupid decisions._

After organizing the folders on my laptop and fiddling around with my new textbooks and notebooks, I saw my roommate approaching.

"Why are you up so early?", she said with a grating voice while dragging a hand down the side of her face.

I raised an eyebrow with a knowing grin, "Sharpay, it's 10:30am." She didn't vocalize a reply and rolled her eyes before dragging her feet into the bathroom. I shook my head. Her idea of sleeping at a 'normal' time was at 2am. Why would you do that to yourself? I used to adopt her same habits last year. We were a lot closer last year. But I decided I wanted to become a morning person. I have goals. Big ones. If that means studying while people are sleeping, so be it. I am going to work hard to accomplish those goals because I _want_ them that badly—more than anything in the world

I remember hearing Sharpay talk to her boyfriend over the phone from around 12:30am to 2-ish last night. That's probably why she's so grumpy. Long distance relationships seem complicated to me.

Correction—all relationships seem complicated to me. Sure, I've been hit on before and went on a few random dates but I don't want that in my life right now. I can get off on my own. And no, not _that_ kind of 'getting off'. Just _no_. Sharpay complains when her boyfriend disagrees with her and rants to me when he doesn't like her wearing earrings when he's not around. I don't get it. _What the fuck_? Congratulations on your _third_ parental guardian. I would have dumped … maybe not. I'm not exactly sure of the magnitude of the situation. My point is—I think she can definitely do better than him. It's simple with me. I just don't need a man. At least, not _right now_. I am too focused on what I want and my goals. I don't need or want any distractions. I don't need a guy to make me happy. I am already so happy with myself, with what I have, with my friends and family.

I scanned my textbooks with eager eyes. What can I get done before all shit hits the fan and school starts kicking my ass again? _Not much_ , the logical part of my brain tells me. _Not much_ , it reiterates. I stuffed my needed notebooks and lab coat into my backpack. I will get some lunch at the nearby café. I just don't want to linger around and unintentionally piss of 'Miss Night Owl'. My first class of the day was at the biology lab. It was supposed to be a small class with only about twelve people, working on a brand-new research project. When I saw the class listing on the master schedule, something like a tiny flare gun went off in my brain. This would be a great opportunity to gain some new experience. So I talked to my college counselor, and she was more than happy to register the course for me.

* * *

I walked out of the apartment and crossed the street into the towering science building. Campus was bustling about, and students were everywhere. I pushed the glass door of the café located at the base of the building.

"Well hello there!" Ethel chimes with a bright smile as she notices me, a familiar face.

"Good afternoon Miss Ethel," I mirror her smile.

"A cinnamon raisin bagel with cream cheese or something different perhaps," she inquired while resting her arms on the glass of the counter.

I scrunched up the bridge of my nose in thought. "I think I'll have a turkey wrap instead, please."

"Coming right up," she says as she reaches for the item under the glass and carefully places it in the toaster. I release the strap of my backpack and set it in a chair near a small table. Sitting on the chair adjacent to my bag, I take a look around me. Students being to form quite a long queue. The lunch rush was about to hit. I was lucky enough to get here at the right time.

"Sweetie, your sandwich is ready. I can ring you up," Ethel gestures. I stand up near the cash register and pay for my meal before taking the brown paper bag from Ethel. I walk over to my backpack and lift it onto my back with my other hand. I might as well walk up to the seating area outside the lab so I won't be late. I look at my watch. I'll just eat lunch outside the lab.

Other students are seated in the group work area where I decide to eat my lunch. I wonder to myself if any of the students could be in my class too. I take out my water bottle and drink after each bite of my wrap. Even though it was expensive, it was totally worth it. Plus, I love seeing Ethel and the other ladies' bright, contagious smiles at the café.

Before I know it, 12:50 hits and a number of students stand near the door to the lab. They are staring at their phones of course. I'm guessing no one really knows each other and tries to avoid cumbersome introductions. Our society has come to be very antisocial these days. I mean, the fact that social media imposes on each of our lives seems to imply that we are social through media but somehow there's not as much face-to-face socialization or communication as there used to be. I guess it's just easier to send a text, Tweet, or email. In a way it's revolutionary but it has a sad side if you really think about it. This is ironic, in a way. I'm speculating the underlying themes of society instead of going over and saying hi. Sigh. I digress.

A short man with dark blonde hair wearing a lab coat and goggles smiles at the small crowd and excuses himself before scanning his ID card on the side of the door. He holds the door open, and the iPhone-ridden students shuffle inside. I glance again at my watch 12:52. My hands hold a small bite left of my wrap. I guess I really was hungry. I drink down several gulps of water and sneak two Tic Tacs in my mouth. Picking up my backpack, I see a few other students march into the open lab room. I roll shoulders back, straighten up, and tighten my ponytail as I stride in following them.

The two instructors of the class stood across the long, tall lab tabletops with stools and in front of a large white dry-erase whiteboard wall, on which a slide show presentation was projected. They each wore long lab coats and clear, transparent goggles. One of the two, a short lady with bobbed, curly strawberry blonde hair wore long, violet dangly earrings and red-framed glasses. Her name was Dr. Judy Stein. One of my previous classmates had her for an introductory class. Apparently, she is quite eccentric and equally injected with enthusiasm for science and research. The other instructor—the man with the dark blonde hair—had a warm smile adorning his features. I knew that he helped with a lot of the laboratories and their equipment. I just never knew his name.

"Good morning! I see some familiar faces along with some fresh ones! Let's wait a few minutes to see if anyone else is coming and then we can get started!" Dr. Stein enunciated brightly. For a tiny woman, you could tell that she exuded positivity and a hunger for scientific knowledge.

I looked around the room to see if I knew anyone or recognized anyone but I didn't notice anyone familiar. I didn't panic. I saw two people, a guy with light brown hair and green eyes talking alongside a very petite girl with highlighted brown hair swept up in a ponytail. They walked over to sit on the same side of a table. I sat on the other side. I put my backpack down near my stool and took out my lab coat and goggles. After running my fingers through my dark, wavy hair, I re-adjusted it into a ponytail using one of the several hair bands on my arm.

Once the clock near the door ticked on the hour, the stout man took out his clicker to control the slide show. Glancing at Dr. Stein, he declared in slightly raspy but sincere-sounding voice, "Let's get started then, shall we?"

"Yes, we might as well, " Dr. Stein nodded to him. "Everyone, as you may know, I am Dr. Stein and this," gesturing to her counterpart, "is Daniel. He is one of the laboratory directors, and without him, this course would not be possible. Daniel will help us prep all of our experiments and help us adjust our protocols."

"For anyone who has never done self-directed experiments, we will be guiding you in making your own experiments in coordination with the topics each of your groups will be in charge of. I trust that everyone knows what a protocol is—a step-by-step process written out, outlining the procedures of your experiment along with the specific materials and equipment used…"

About seven minutes into their lecture, the door of the room flew open and a guy wearing a heather-blue t-shirt, jeans, black Nike sneakers, and glasses walked in. He had dark hair and was tall, maybe a little over six feet. He trudged in with a blue and grey backpack marked with a swiss army logo on it—the same kind as on my black backpack.

"Sorry, I'm late!," he apologized, looking towards the professors. He seemed quite flustered. You could infer from his demeanor that he was an honest guy.

"That's all right, Troy. You can take a seat," Dr. Stein replied understandingly.

She and Daniel continued to introduce the different projects that we would be taking on, the selection of group topics to choose from, and the standard laboratory rules like appropriate apparel to wear and safety information.

The quirky professor finished off her spiel by clapping her hands together and excitedly saying, "Well, we don't have to start forming groups until tomorrow but we can get started by practicing our techniques! Who here has _initiative_?"

No one in the class raised his or her hand for the first thirteen seconds until a black haired boy with a shiny earring did. I raised my hand five seconds after he did, feeling sorry for Dr. Stein's wasted enthusiasm. Both Dr. Stein and Daniel each looked at one another with a grimace, and Dr. Stein said, "Well, if it takes that long for you to raise your hand, I'm not sure if that really shows initiative," with the grimace still pasted on her lips.

I remained stoic on the outside but I felt so embarrassed on the inside. I shouldn't have raised my hand. It seems that very few people know each other in this class. The ice has yet to be broken and the awkwardness filling the room feels almost tangible. I wanted to get out of the room. I wanted to run and leave, and _why did I decide to take_ _ **this**_ _class_?

"Never mind then. Everyone needs to head to the back of the lab and take some beakers and bacteria culture. Begin transferring fluid in the bottles on that table near the metal door. Start with the simple protocol on transferring your bacteria and nutrient fluid," Daniel led the way. His expression turned more serious, as if his instincts kicked into gear, and he was on a mission. I gently placed my material on a space near the back table. The "Johnny-come-lately" of the class sat across from me looking at the bacteria on a dish under a microscope.

An older-looking student smiled at me, "Do you need some help there?," she asked politely. She had dark skin and a friendly face. A green headband kept her bangs away from her face.

"Thanks, that would be great," I responded with gratitude. "Have you done anything like this before?"

"I have," she nodded with hands on her hips, "I've actually done some early microscope studies with Dr. Stein and Dan. I get to continue my project for my group. My name is Taylor by the way…Let me get you some gloves, and we can start working."

"Thanks," I sniffed after putting on my latex gloves. The odor from the bacteria reached my nose. It was quite unpleasant and my nose wrinkled in response to the disagreeableness. "Oh, I put away my instructional protocol in my folder. How many are we supposed to transfer?" I closed my eyes, trying to picture the instructions in my head.

"I believe it is ten milliliters," she narrowed her eyes at her beaker questionably. She walked over to where her stool was and began reading over the instructions, leaving me alone with the equipment.

"It's ten," the dark-haired guy in the blue shirt indiscriminately said. His goggles were tossed to the side of the microscope.

I looked up across from me. He was still sitting there at the microscope but his eyes found mine.

"Ten?" I asked initiating eye contact.

"Ten milliliters," he said with a clear, unsmiling voice. His eyes were blue through his grey-framed glasses. His were darker than the kind of blue eyes I was used to seeing. But they were warm, earnest, and deep.

"Thanks," I answered before seeing Taylor coming back my way and repeating his words.


	3. Chapter 2: In my mind

A/N: I feel like a lot of stories put Gabriella in the proverbial category of nerd, and automatically say she's smart, gorgeous, and a genius Einsteinette. With the exception of the last attribute, being stated in the movie, authors don't necessarily back up or support their statements. They simply say she's a pretty nerd, and that's it. So I'm here to be the dissenter. I'm going to take you inside Gabriella's head and show you how she thinks…at least how I think she would think. Does that make sense?

I know it's been a while. I know this is a chapter, which is on the shorter side. I promise the rest will be longer. This story is still not going to be regularly updated but to those who stick around: thank you.

* * *

Chapter 2: In my mind

 _When I first fell into those deep pools in your eyes, I thought I would be fine but I never really get this feeling in my chest…I wasn't even looking for you. My skies were already blue…"_

 _-_ "Treasure", song by Tori Kelly

After doing some practice techniques for our first lab, the class ended shortly. The next day we would choose our groups. Since not many people in the class knew each other, I felt that our groups could be messy. I was not that worried. When Dr. Stein and Daniel went through the slide show presentation and showed us the list of potential topics, my mind immediately jumped to the Phase 1: Growth and Development group. We would track the life cycle of an amoeba and record observations. I know this may sound boring but I think it is so interesting and cool. Some people seem so rapt up in their own social worlds, full of gossip and drama and don't seem to enjoy and take note of the beauty of the world around us. Science, to me, is beautiful. There are creatures out there that we cannot see and others that are so complex and gigantic. Life is so diverse. There are so many ways to interpret and view life, from its broad sense to its specific processes.

The group that I wanted to be in would provide the amoeba with nutrients on dishes, track the cellular growth, and check for the development of mature structures. Today would be the day where groups of three students would be designated a topic. I remember Dr. Stein and Daniel saying that we could be assigned groups or we could simply decide based on interest.

"Welcome, welcome everyone!" Dr. Stein greeted. "Daniel and I have decided that we would like to organize everyone in groups. We will let you decide if you have a certain inclination towards a particular topic. If we have some students with no preference, we will place them in the groups that need extra members. Since there are only twelve of you, there will be four groups total with three members each! Now…who here is a procrastinator?"

There was an awkward pause. After a few beats of silence passed, one hand was raised. It was the same guy from yesterday that helped me out when I needed an answer. I didn't even ask for an answer from him.

"Okay, Troy, at least you're being honest," Dr. Stein acknowledged. The guy returned a glimpse of a half-smile. The professor continued, "What is your preference of topic?"

"I am interested in the Growth and development project," he replied, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

"All right! I have Troy down for Growth/Development," Dr. Stein wrote in her notebook before looking up, "Who wants to join him?"

I was the only person who raised my hand. I was genuinely interested before he picked it. I was not intimidated that he was a procrastinator.

"Great! Gabriella, you can join Troy in the first lab table near the door," Daniel chimed in. I smiled at him and grabbed my backpack and notebook to follow his directions. I looked at the guy who would be one of my group members. The height difference between me in him became more apparent as I drew near. I was five feet, four inches. I was not that short but he had to be over six feet tall. "Hey," I waved at him. He sat down, nodded back, and half-smiled in the same way he did to the professor. The stools of the lab tables were set in the row of three on each side with each of the students arranged shoulder to shoulder. I stood next to Troy, expecting to find a stool waiting for me, only to disappointed to find the chair missing.

His eyebrows raised at my confusion, "Oh, do you need a chair?"

"I do, actually," I said with my eyebrows narrowed. He stood up from his stool, and scanned the room with his eyes.

"Let me get you one," he said behind his shoulder to roll one of the adjustable-height office chairs near the refrigerators in the room. His hand pulled the lever on the chair to adjust its height for the tall lab tables. "There you go," he pushed the chair over to my seat.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"It's no problem," he assured, a smile gracing his face for a split second or maybe it was just my imagination. I couldn't tell.

Dr. Stein looked around the room. Everyone seemed to have chosen to be in his or her groups aside from two other people. "Kelsi, you can join the Growth/Development group with Gabriella and Troy."

I smiled as Kelsi approached our lab table, and she returned mine with a wave. She had a rather short stature with blondish brown hair swept up in a high ponytail. She sat on a stool to the left of me as Dr. Stein and Daniel continued their spiel about the course and the upcoming weeks.

I glanced at Troy who wasn't really paying attention. He was running one of his hands through the hair near his hairline. His hair was dark brown with a sort of spiked style that could be achieved without hair gel, or so I imagine. His glasses rested on his nose and his eyes looked concentrated on whatever was on his laptop. I tried to crane my neck over to overcome the glare from his computer screen to see what he was so focused on but he turned his head to look at me. I was caught being nosy and had quite a surprised look on my face. He softened his expression and had a small, sly little grin on his lips, amused at my curiosity. He raised an eyebrow at me and turned back to his laptop.

I mentally shrugged and directed my attention back to the instructors. So much for being sneaky. In my head, I also was kicking myself in the foot for choosing interest over practicality. I normally loathe procrastinators. Why did I do that? He seems like a nice guy. He is honest, at least. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how it goes. It's only one semester, six hours per week in the lab. Shit, that's a lot.

* * *

The next day at lab, Troy looked different. I am going to try not to sound like a movie cliché and say that 'he looked beautiful without glasses' but damn seriously, he looked better without his glasses. I could see the subtle outline of his contacts around his irises. He had to wear contacts, considering how thick his glasses were. He seemed nerdy in my first impression of him. That's not to say that I am not nerdy because let me tell you, I definitely am. The amount of comic books I read and my level of obsession with everything Marvel, proves that.

I noticed a lot of different traits about him that day. I saw him before lab since he apparently added another student's email instead of mine for sending lab documents. I was kind of annoyed. It made me feel like a forgettable person. I am a pretty reserved, more-on-the quiet-side kind of person. Those are probably the reasons why I would be forgettable.

I actually noticed how warm his blue eyes appeared. His demeanor made his come off as a genuine good guy. I saw him with plain clothes without his lab coat as he handed me his phone to put in my correct email. His baby blue shirt seemed to hug the contours of his torso including a muscular back.

Dr. Stein was using the whiteboard to show how to do serial dilutions, basically how to dilute a sample of liquid, which contains the amoeba before plating it on agar on glass plate with a cover. I couldn't quite get the math right. I tried to ask Kelsi if she understood any of Dr. Stein's insight.

"Kelsi, did you understand the serial dilution calculations?"

She looked questioningly at her notes, "I'm trying to right now. I don't understand what comes after the third step…Let's ask Troy, if he knows."

"Hey, Troy," I called after him. He was, as usual, looking at something at his laptop screen. From where I was standing, it looked like he was on facebook, messaging some friends.

"Yeah?" he turned to us.

"Do you understand how to do the calculations?" I asked.

"Oh, sure. Those are easy. Come over here. I can show you," he closed his laptop and rested his arms with his hands together on the lab table. And so, he started to spit out random numbers as an example. He was talking about multiplying and dividing certain values, and I found myself getting distracted, just staring at him instead, with my head resting on my left palm. He was taking turns looking at each of us, attempting to walk us through the problem. I assumed that Kelsi was following what he was saying.

He continued to ramble about the numbers and leaned forward towards me while looking me in the eye, "So when you divide the first value by the second, you get…" He looked at me with hopeful eyes. He is probably waiting for an answer. Shit.

I snapped out of my trance and shifted my eyes back and forth, reaching for information in my head to clue me an answer, if I absorbed any information. He nodded one time at me for a response with a hint of grin.

I shyly smiled without my teeth and narrowed my eyebrows because I clearly didn't follow what he was saying. His eyes shifted to Kelsi if she any gleaned any of his wisdom.

I apologetically smiled at him, "Sorry, I don't follow." He closed his eyes with a slightly disheartened yet tickled expression. His face expressively showed his playful disappointment.


	4. Chapter 3: Brand new

A/N: Happy New Year! Here's to 2016 and actually, eventually finishing this story.

I know my story may seem fickle. I'm writing towards to the end goal of romance, of course. I'm honestly not necessarily doing this story for reviews. I know there aren't many of you HSM readers out there, anyway. I just really needed to get this storyline out of my head and onto paper since it has been bothering me for some time now. I may deal with more sociological based themes later in my work. I know the storyline may seem fickle, like I said previously, but if you try to read between the lines maybe you can dig up a deeper meaning. Thanks in advance for the reviews! x

* * *

Chapter 3: Brand new

" _You have flipped my view.  
Yeah, I'm not used to these changes.  
All these brand new feelings I can't explain  
but somehow I like it."_

 _-_ "Upside Down", Tori Kelly

 _He was something else._

I had come to this conclusion about three weeks into the semester. By this time, I got to know Troy [and Kelsi too] a little better. Let me explain…

On the Thursday of the third week of the semester, I thought to myself. _Damn_.

From the previous week, noticing how warm his deep blue eyes were and how genuine he came off, I was really starting to warm up to this guy. Yet, I couldn't help but feel stupid around him. He was a senior and I was a junior at the time. He was so smart and knowledgeable along with Kelsi since they both had internships, conducting scientific laboratory work previous to taking this course. I had yet to do my biological lab work during my internship in the coming year.

Troy wore a tank top before putting on his lab coat for class. I couldn't stop staring. How stupid of me to seem so infatuated. _Someone_ had been clearly hiding some _serious_ biceps underneath his lab coat. I had no idea he was ripped. The contours on his skin clearly displayed the outlines of toned muscles on a built torso.

Normally, I hate when guys wear tanks but those negative thoughts were completely thrown out the window when I saw this specimen. Not only was he a nice guy but I also found him attractive.

Not to mention the way he smiles…Wow. That sealed the deal. That boy is so beautiful when he smiles. His eyes light up, and his pearly whites almost glisten in ray of light that figures its way through the laboratory blinds.

Lana Del Rey sings in my head, " _Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes_." He shows his playful disappointment with a smile that gleans trustworthiness and honesty.

I marched into the lab room trying desperately not to stare too much at him. I kept my gaze down, trying my best not to seem completely obvious. I set my backpack on the table and took out my laptop and notebook along with a pencil. At my usual seat, I found out that a chair was missing once again.

"Ugh, what gives?" I huffed. I thought my words were projected in my head. However, my mouth betrayed my mind as I said them aloud.

Troy's left eyebrow peaked. "Are you missing a chair again?"

A little flustered, I replied, "Uh, yeah" as I started to walk towards the other tables with empty chairs.

Troy, being the gentleman that he is, volunteered, "I'll get you a chair."

"Oh, thanks," I sighed cheerfully. He grabbed one of the rolling swivel chairs near the workbenches that had the ability to be adjusted to a suitable height. I grabbed the lever on the underside of the chair once he shifted it towards me, making the chair rise to the level of the tall table.

Surprisingly, Troy was really helpful. During class, he would talk me through the protocol and give me tips on how to keep the lab instruments steady. He was so patient with me. When I would finish, he would gently say, "Not so bad, right?". I would sigh out of relief, and repeat, "Not so bad."

I'm a lot better at lab now. I know where I went wrong with pouring the chemicals too quickly and spreading the cells on the gelatin-like agar too hard. I noticed that he seems to like to tease Kelsi a lot, especially about her height since she is 4'10". I'm not gonna lie; I'm a little jealous of the attention he gives her. I also noticed that he has a gaming laptop so that indicates that he is a gamer. Interesting. My inclination towards computer video games, although not avidly, and my penchant for watching playthroughs are some potential things we could talk about. That is one thing we have in common. I should bring it up sometime.

I've been opening up a lot more lately, trying to stay true to myself. We would share a laugh when he tried to fool Kelsi that she has to come in on Friday when we didn't have to do an experiment that day.

I would scold him playfully, "Stop it!"

And he would laugh his glorious chuckle, "Imagine if she actually came in tomorrow?" I would laugh along with him.

* * *

One day, when my other class finished early, my fellow group members in my chemistry class—Sean and, now seemingly one of my best friends, Taylor—and I decided to sort out the requirements of our group paper in the library. Taylor and I were slightly pissed off at Sean for not completing his portion of the project in a timely manner; he finished writing his section about two hours before the online submission due time.

"We agreed that we would finish each of our parts by Saturday night," Taylor scolded. She and I both glared at Sean.

"I'm sorry, guys. It was my bad," Sean grumbled, his glassy eyes gawking at his laptop screen.

Just then, the library lounge door opened and closed with a bellowing voice, "Yeah, Sean, it was your bad." I looked up at the interrupter.

It was Troy with his classic smirk adorning his face. My face ducked down as I made a sideways glance to Taylor.

Troy. My hero. Could he get any better? Just kidding. It turned out Sean and Troy shared a genetics class that is taught by Dr. Stein. So they talked and Sean went over to him. They slapped hands and greeted each other. Troy nodded over at me, and I mouthed a 'hey'. I quietly mentioned over to Taylor that he is the "Mr. Biceps" I was referring to the other day when we were chatting over Twitter.

Taylor's eyes went wide and broke into that subtle shit-eating grin that is not uncommon. _You know what I mean_ —that stupid grin that your best friend makes at you when they know about your stupid crush.

* * *

Troy emails me or I email him if we have to come to lab early. Kelsi has other prior commitments as an orientation leader so she can't join us on our experimental adventures. I guess that means I get more alone time with him…and also with Dr. Stein who has to unlock the lab room for us. But I digress.

The next day, before lab time, I was sitting on one of the couches that lay near the group study area outside the lab room. I opened my laptop, whose screen displayed on the left, internet browser and on the right, Captain America comics. Troy peeked over my shoulder to look at my screen as I was registering for classes when we arrived early for Monday lab and asked me about my classes for the upcoming fall. When I told him about microbiology, he gave me a tip to study all of the back exams and "I should be all set since O'Malley gives the same lectures all the time."

The following week, before lab on Thursday, he was sitting in one of the couches in that same group study alcove.

"Hey," I blurted as I set my backpack down on the couch.

"Sup?" he spoke, shooting me a quick squint and looking up from his facebook message on his laptop.

I put my hands on my hips, "Not much. Kinda tired." I went around the couch before sitting next to him, my backpack in between us.

"Yeah. Same," he yawned.

I broached the subject carefully, "Uh, just curious. What classes are you taking next semester?" I didn't want to seem too nosy. I normally hate nosy people. They're one of my pet peeves.

He ran a hand through his chestnut locks. "Um let me see. Anatomy. Anatomy Lab…" He continued his list of other classes, which I don't remember him saying because I was too busy being fascinated by him and wondering if his hair was as soft as it looked. I snapped back to reality as he ended his list, "Forensic Science and Senior Seminar…Yup," he closed his eyes tightly, "I think…that's it."

My voice broke in, "Wow. That's a lot. I was going to take Anatomy but I figured that I already had a lot on my plate."

"Remind me what classes are you taking again?" he stated.

I rested my head on my right palm, "Let's see… I told you about Microbiology. I also have Evolution, Math–"

Troy interjected, "Statistics?"

"Yeah, that's the one," I piped, "and I'm continuing this lab class next semester."

"So sixteen credits?" he theorized.

"Fourteen actually," I revealed.

He straightened up. His arm muscles flexed as he pushed himself to sit up and reach into his backpack's front pocket. "Do you have your laptop with you?"

I was confused at this gesture, "Um yeah." I slowly took my laptop out of its soft case from the back pocket of my bag. My Captain America desktop background appeared as I opened it up.

"Here," he handed me the smallest USB flash drive I have ever seen. It looked like a small piece of metal. I guess I haven't seen a lot of flash drive sticks. "All of my microbiology notes are in there. That's all you need to study. You can copy them onto your laptop," he explained.

I was taken aback and speechless, "Oh. Thanks." I plugged the flash drive in my laptop's correct port. I saw a file marked Captain America: The Winter Soldier. The sneaky bastard in the back of my mind told me to copy it also onto my laptop but I didn't. My conscience was a lot stronger than that sinister voice. The Marvel fangirl in me freaked that he liked Captain America too. My thoughts urged me to bring it up but I didn't. I suddenly couldn't find my voice and felt anxious and nervous around him. The weird thing was, I wasn't sure why.

I gave his tiny mini flash drive back to him and sputtered, "Thanks so much" with a shy beam.

"Yeah, no problem," he mirrored my smile, "A lot of people have been asking around for it. So, yeah. I remembered you talking about it the other day."

I really liked that he was so sweet about it. I didn't even ask for his notes. He just wanted to help and I really appreciated that. I still don't know why I didn't speak up about the Captain America thing. Maybe I was just overthinking. In my other class, I could talk to guys without overthinking and yell at Sean for being a procrastinating ass but around Troy, I was calculating every word to say.

I shook off my consuming thoughts and followed him into lab. Kelsi tapped me on the arm and whispered, "hey" to which I acknowledged with a friendly, "hi".

When we were writing up the protocol today Troy flipped through my notebook as I stood beside him.

Kelsi walked over to his other side and asked him, "Do you need my notes for anything?"

Troy concluded, "No, I actually like her notes better," nodding to me. His sentence sounded more like question than a statement.

I internally gushed. Ugh. I hate myself when I'm like this, stupidly wrapped up in meaningless crush that will soon fade away, eventually. After all, he is graduating next year.

"I'll look at this plate under the microscope," he motioned to Kelsi and I as he went to the back of the room for the viewing area. I followed him and rested my head on my palm, watching as he removed his goggles and craned his neck to see the cells through the lens. I could see his long eyelashes grazing the glass of the eyepiece. Perhaps, I was a bit too close. I don't think I noticed.

Did I mention that he smells like heaven? I want to know the name of his cologne so I can buy a bottle and get high off of it. I just want to bury my head in his chest and inhale because he smells that good. I also want to run my fingers through his hair.

My goodness, Gabriella. You haven't been like this since the sixth grade when you had a crush on that boy, Nick.

Troy is just so cute and hot and smart and he makes me feel stupid…but in a good way. The thing is I'm just me—not on his level, awkward, and flat-chested. I've never had a real relationship. Sure, other guys have hit on me before but I'm not sure why. I don't even know how I could be attractive. My messy waves of layered hair can barely stay put in a ponytail. But whatever. I'll work with what I have, and enjoy his company while I still can since I don't think he is continuing this class next semester. Who know when I will see him again after this summer? I promised myself I would never chase a guy. Guys have to chase me. I don't want to waste time on someone who won't even like me back. I intend to keep that promise to myself…but _look_ at him.

Oh God, if we are meant to be friends or go out or what not, please let it happen. Nevertheless, I'm glad I've found sort of an acquaintance or friend in him.

* * *

When class was over, Troy was helping me place all of the cell culture plates back in the incubator. He got a little side-tracked while talking to the laboratory director, Daniel, who inquired if we needed any supplies.

"I don't think we need anymore of that purple reagent," Troy informed him, half-shouting across the room. He still had the cell plates in his hands so I carefully took them out of his grasp when he wasn't paying attention.

Startled, he shivered slightly before turning to me with a slight chuckle, "You scared me."

"Sorry," I murmured, "I didn't mean to." I tucked a stray hair that fell loose from my ponytail behind my ear. I swear I saw Troy eye me for an extra second before he turned back to Daniel.

After I finished stacking the petri dishes. I went back to the lab table where Kelsi already packed her bag and was ready to leave class. I looked at the large digital clock, which affirmed the end time of lab. I stuffed my lab coat, goggles, and notebook back into my backpack. I was having a hard time getting the rolling swivel chair back down to a normal seat level. Each time I pulled the lever, the chair rose even higher.

"Having trouble there?" Troy snickered, taking his lab coat off and revealing a heather gray t-shirt. _Does every freakin' shirt hug his body in a flattering way? Swoon._

I breathed, trying to not look up at him, "Yeah, I can't seem to get it down."

"Let me take care of that for you," he uttered with a laugh at the end of his sentence.

"Thanks," I responded with a simper. He nodded at me before I followed Kelsi out.

" _I've had crushes before, but it's not the same.  
Something different about you, I can't explain.  
Baby, you're making me insane  
You got me so twisted."_

\- "Upside Down," Tori Kelly


	5. Chapter 4: Into your atmosphere

A/N: I know this chapter is on the shorter side. I kept debating with myself to either include/exclude another scene here. I decided against including it. I hope my future chapters will be longer and similar in length to my previous chapters.

* * *

Chapter 4: [Into your atmosphere]

" _Feels like everybody's watching_ _  
_ _To see what my next move is_ _  
_ _Do I proceed with caution or do I just dive in?_ _  
_ _But I'm fine with taking it slow;_ _  
_ _Enjoy life on my own,_ _  
_ _But I can be confusing sometimes, I know."_

 _-_ "Stained", by Tori Kelly

The first thing I noticed was that Troy got a haircut over the weekend.

He sauntered over to Kelsi and I who were sitting on the couches in the group-work alcove outside of the lab room. He was late to our meeting before lab to make the presentation. I emailed both Kelsi and Troy over the weekend to figure out how we would organize the PowerPoint.

Here's how our email conversation went:

 _Me: Hey Troy and Kelsi,_ _Do we need to meet up early/make a PowerPoint for the presentation tomorrow?_

 _Kelsi: Not sure…We had contamination in our experiment but we can meet like ten minutes before to talk about what were going to say, if you'd like."_

 _Troy: Oh fuck. We have to present on Monday, don't we?_

 _Kelsi: Yep._

 _Me: All righty. I need to talk first when we present because Dr. Stein is on my case._

Let me backtrack for a second. So we had a presentation not too long ago. Troy did most of the talking since Kelsi and I just let him. He comes off as this confident guy who seems to know what he talks about. I didn't see that as a bad thing. Apparently, Dr. Stein didn't like it. I guess I mostly nodded during our last presentation. I made a few remarks about the caveats to our protocol but I didn't necessarily help lead the presentation.

After that, Dr. Stein pulled me aside and asked me, "Are you shy?"

I smiled my understanding smile since people tend to perceive me as a shy girl. The thing is, I just value silence. Silence is precious. If I want to sit back and watch people work it out with drama, why can't I? I don't see anything wrong with that. I'm not a talkative person. _So what?_

I replied gently, "No, I'm not."

Dr. Stein said in her certain maternal voice, "Well, I want to hear your voice _more_ , okay?" I merely nodded in response.

* * *

Troy replied to my last email without cc'ing or copying Kelsi on it.

 _Troy: You got it. But why is she on your case?_

 _Me: She pulled me aside last time and asked me if I'm shy. I said no but she said that I need to speak up more because she wants to hear my voice._

 _Troy: Okay. You will be fine then just speak up in the beginning and show some confidence._

 _Me: That's the plan._

Kelsi replied to both of us, unaware of my and Troy's separate conversation, setting 12:45pm to meet on Monday—fifteen minutes before the start of lab.

I guess the point is that he was a little nosy—wanting to know why Dr. S is on my case. I was going to be a bit snappy saying that "Are you saying that I'm not confident?" But I didn't. I guess it showed that he cared. He wanted to help me out and, who knows, possibly get to know we better. I wasn't sure. Kelsi didn't mind me. But he did.

When Troy came up the stairs and approached the group work area, I looked at him and smiled, making a teasing gesture by pointedly glancing at my watch. It read, 12:52pm.

He smiled that golden smile of his and said, "I know," in a good-humoredly shameful tone.

"I like your haircut by the way," I acknowledged and immediately regretted saying this since it just seemed to make it's way out of my head and out of my clumsy mouth.

He returned my compliment with a smile, which upturned only the corner of his mouth, and answered with a simple, "Thanks," trailing his left hand through his hair above his temple.

* * *

Today, I was with Troy in the microscope room to centrifuge for plating more cells for growth-tracking, and I immediately pressed the start button after putting in the test tubes.

 _Say something, Gabriella. Don't just let this awkward silence pass you by._ "I noticed there was something titled 'Captain America: The Winter Soldier' on your flash drive from the other day," I sputtered.

"Oh, yeah?," he perked, "One of my friends somehow got a download of the movie and copied it onto there. I haven't see it yet though. Have you?"

"Yeah. It was really good. Better than the first—in fact," I uttered my reply, avoiding eye contact and staring around the microscope room, "I read a lot of comics and am a pretty big Captain America fan."

"Really? I haven't noticed," he sarcastically added, his eyes scanning the trademark shield on my t-shirt that displayed on my open lab coat.

After a few beats of silence passed, my eyes shifted to the small window of the machine that had the speed values listed. I noticed that the machine read 200g for three mins. The protocol called for 500g for five minutes. My eyes widened and I protested, "Uh oh. No." My voice stressed the "o" sound while repeatedly hit the stop button.

Looking up from his phone and leaning against the microscope room's door, Troy mumbled, "What's wrong?" He quickly walked over to me, somewhat concerned.

"I forgot to check the setting before starting the machine," I fretted, continually pressing the stop button.

Taylor opened the door just as I completed my sentence and questioned, "Did you stop it?"

Troy was behind me and snickered, "Yeah, it's stopping."

I refrained from pressing the button, and chided, "No, it's not." I, nevertheless, heard the buzz of the centrifuge machine.

"No, look—" he pointed at the descending numbers in the tiny, digital window.

"Oh," I gave a small sigh of relief but sassed, "Well, _someone's_ been messing with the centrifuge."

Troy let out a brief chuckle. I stared up at him for a transient second. I found his laugh, his smile to be…just _attractive_. I was glad to have made him laugh, even if it was a truly slight laugh. He _still_ laughed. When we returned to the lab room to leave Taylor to her duties, Kelsi queried with a confused expression, "Where did you guys go?"

Troy nonchalantly joked, "We went for a walk."

I shook my head in disbelief and explained, "Centrifuge."

I mused, I would love to go on a walk with him. At first I liked his hair better than his new haircut but it's definitely growing on me now. I still want to run my fingers through it. I am undeniably insufferable. I hate how I have to put up with myself whenever I start liking someone.

I told my roommate Sharpay about the earlier flash drive-microbiology encounter and she cooed, "Awww. You guys should start dating!"

Pssshh, I can only dream. He's probably the most perfect guy I have ever seen and known. Or at least, close enough. Damn.

This needs to stop.

* * *

There were so many dirty jokes today at lab. Troy's reasons are because he is tired. I beg to differ.

"Be careful with that solution," he warned, "It stains clothes _and_ skin." Troy sat on the rolling office chair next to Kelsi as she sat on a similar chair facing the fume hood, under which she would handle the chemicals. I stood in between them, observing the procedure.

"I will have to double up on gloves," noted Kelsi.

Troy smirked mischievously and raised an eyebrow, "Oh…so you have experience with that?"

Kelsi gave me a knowing look before stretching the light navy latex gloves onto her hands. She lightheartedly threatened Troy, "I'm going to smack you," and nudged me with her elbow, "Can you punch him for me?"

I teasingly rolled up the sleeves of my lab coat and adjusted my own latex-gloved hands in an orthodox boxing stance, opposite Troy. "Where do you want me to hit him?"

Holding up his hands, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. We'll take this outside later," Troy chortled, throwing back his head and closing his eyes in amusement.

"I'll _kick_ your ass later," I quipped, unable to hide an impending grin.

"I'll help her," Kelsi retorted, focusing on pouring the solution onto the petri dish. Her voice went back to a serious tone,"Gabriella, could you get me a rack for all the tubes?"

"Sure thing," I responded simply.

Troy spun around in his chair and looked over at one of the other group's tables that held a particularly large test tube rack. He obnoxiously blurted, "Whoa. That's a big rack." Kelsi and I shared another perceptive look before disapprovingly glancing at Troy.

He shrugged, "Someone had to say it." A glint of amusement sparkled in his azure irises.

Rotating in her chair toward me, Kelsi pointed out, "I'm going to need the smaller rack for this tube."

I started to slowly walk towards our table located on the other side of the lab, "I'll get the smaller rack."

"Why? No one likes a small rack," Troy reasoned senselessly.

I continued walking away to our table but berated over my shoulder, "Oh shut up!"

I could hear Troy hysterically laughing behind me but didn't bother turning around. I rolled my eyes in mock frustration. I can't believe I actually have a crush on _this_ guy.


	6. Chapter 5: Not very flirtatious

Chapter 5: [Not very flirtatious]

" _I'm not very flirtatious.  
I'm not gonna blow kisses.  
I don't bat my eyelashes.  
I have nothing to lose, so how could it go wrong?  
But it's so much easier to sing it in a song._ _"_

\- "Eyelashes", by Tori Kelly

One thing that has stuck with me after reading Sharpay's old _Cosmopolitan_ magazines was this:

Guys have the inherent need to feel _needed_.

I've been doing some thinking about those frivolous articles. Some tips about making a guy interested in you included: be nice to him, give him space, be open, be there for him, and play a video game with him. I remember a very important point was to make him feel needed.

That's one thing I usually make sure to do to Troy. I remember one story Sharpay told me when she went to the store with Zeke to pick up a huge sack of sand— _for what reason? I have no idea_ —and she insisted on doing it herself, even though Zeke kindly offered to carry the heavy object. Sharpay scoffed when a bystander even scolded Zeke for letting her carry it. Sharpay— _while flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder, of course_ —told me that 'she could handle it herself'.

What she doesn't know is _yeah_ , guys like independent women and _yeah_ , he knows that you can do it yourself _but_ he also wants to feel needed by you and not just kicked to the curb. I've noticed this quite frequently when I've observed interactions between couples and even male-female friendships. Insisting that you can do everything by yourself tends to jab at the male ego. It can be very fragile. It's almost saying, ' _Hey, don't do that for me. I have two hands and am perfectly capable of doing it myself. Thank you very much. I don't need you_ '. Now, I think this is perfectly fine when you don't have feelings or express absolutely no interest in the guy _but_ if you like him or see potential in a future relationship with him, I think it's a good idea to make him feel needed. Otherwise, he feels that he's not wanted.

When I was in lab, and was setting up plates for sporulation or was harvesting spores, I recognized that I have been making Troy feel needed, almost unknowingly. I was always telling him to do something for me, making him dote on my every whim.

"Oh, Troy, can you get me the pipet?" I coaxed, or "Can you get me the blue dye solution at the end of the bench?"

And he would always be compliant. "Sure! I'm on it," he would say or, "Let me get that for you."

I really need to stop thinking about him. This is the only way to get it off my chest. He probably doesn't spend nearly as much time thinking about me as I do, about him. He's probably getting drunk right now or playing a video game on his fancy laptop.

How can someone like him be so perfect? _Sigh_.

* * *

A week passed quickly and on the last Thursday, he asked his usual "Sup?"

I responded my usual, "Not much." We both arrived early before lab and sat on the couches of the group area in front of the lab room—our normal gathering spot.

"How was your weekend?" he inquired, putting down his phone on his lap.

I plopped my backpack on the floor and sat on the couch opposite him, "It was really good actually. I went to the beach."

"Oh. What beach?" he curiously asked.

I explained, "Okay, so my parents' friends have a beach house in Rhode Island, and we spent the weekend there. I think it's in the Newport area."

"Cool," he replied simply.

"Yup. It was fun. Lots of boogie boarding," I mused.

"That's awesome," he beamed his half-smile.

"Yup," I nodded. A beat of silence passed before I wondered out loud, "How was your weekend?"

His eyes scanned the ceiling as he started his sentence, "Um, I just studied and did more essays for my secondary applications for med school." We both glanced at the door to the lab room where Daniel, was holding the door open for some of our classmates, including Kelsi.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and stood. I flippantly taunted him, "Sounds like fun."

He followed my lead into the room and mirrored my grin, "Yup. I had a really fun weekend."

I immediately went to the front of the room to the laptop that controlled the projector and loaded up the pictures of the plasmid that we found in our research for the presentation.

Troy introduced our group, "While she's doing that, we're the sporulation group…and so we—." He gestured to me, since I previously asked him to go first for the presentation.

Dr. Stein broke in before I could speak, "Don't let her do all the work!" The room filled with laughter.

Troy's eyes grew wide "Well!" he huffed, shrugging his shoulders and lifting his hands. I guess he didn't want to say I already told him I wanted to go first. I giggled with the rest of the audience in the small room.

I slapped the air down in front of me in mock understanding, "No, it's okay!" before starting to talk about our experiments thus far. After we finished our presentation, he turned to me at our lab bench and remarked, "Not bad?"

I looked up at him and shook my head affirmatively with narrowed eyebrows, "Not bad…Sorry about that at the beginning. I didn't mean for Stein to yell at you."

He rested his forearms on the table and leaned a little closer to me, "Don't even worry about it. It's nothing," before warmly smiling at me.

* * *

I constantly keep telling myself that I need to stop thinking about Troy. I have several reasons for this. Once again, let's face it—he is a senior and I'm a junior. I've also learned that he likes to drink alcohol almost every weekend. Apparently, he and Kelsi found their common ground about their favorite bars near campus. Honestly, that's not my scene. The only time I drink is at family gatherings to sip red wine. He has an established close group of friends. There's no way I can just meander my way through there. I don't think we have very much in common…

This morning, I told my roommate, Sharpay, about the bizarre dream I had two days ago. I was filling out the course evaluation to give a review about improvements or thoughts about the laboratory class. One of the questions was, "What do you think of Troy's biceps?" I was completely baffled. A fog of mystery surrounded me as I brought the question on the paper closer to my eyes. " _What_?" I sputtered, "Why would Dr. Stein write this?" My dream evaporated, and I woke up. That's all I remember. Sharpay was so entertained, in utter hysterics.

"You've got it bad, girl," she teased.

* * *

When I was heading to lab around noon—I saw Troy sitting on one of the long crescent-shaped chairs, eating lunch. As I walked over to him, he looked up when he presumably heard my footsteps.

My parents actually came by the previous weekend and stayed at a nearby hotel to come visit me. My dad had a conference in the city so I spent the weekend hanging with my mom, shopping in the mall. I got some new summer clothes, and wore a navy high-neck halter tank that with some denim shorts, over-the-knee socks, and my scuffed Chuck Taylors.

I waved, "hey" to him, and he replied his usual 'sup' to which I always seem to respond 'not much'. _Man, am I boring or what?_ His mouth was in the middle of chowing down on his sandwich but I noticed his gaze suddenly dropped. His eyes went straight to my thighs—to the small expanse of bare skin between my shorts and socks. I internally found it so amusing. _Do my eyes deceive me? Did he just check me out?_

I stopped walking, and followed his gaze down my legs. My voice box vibrated without my consent and I jibed casually, "Hey, Troy. What are you staring at?"

"Uh, nothing," he choked and gulped down his bite of food, reaching his right arm over his head and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Kelsi was nearing our seats, and breathed out a heavy sigh, "I hope we don't have to do a lot of lab work today…I promised I would DJ my friend's party, and I want to nap this afternoon because I won't be getting any sleep tonight."

As if she overheard our conversation or read our minds, Dr. Stein exited her office and motioned to the three of us, "Hi Kelsi, Troy, and Gabriella! Since you're all here early, would you like me to open up the lab early for you?"

Kelsi chimed in hurriedly, "That would be great, Dr. Stein! Thanks."

Troy set up his hands as if he was shooting a free throw and landed the empty foil ball of his now-eaten sandwich into the trash bin about five feet out. It landed in a soft swish as Troy silently pumped his fist into the air. Kelsi followed him into the lab room, and I trailed in after her, shaking my head in silent delight.

Troy set his backpack down and stretched his elbows onto the lab table. "I'm so tired," he mumbled into the sleeve of his sky blue long-sleeve shirt and cradled his head in his arms. His eyes closed, showing off the length of his dark eyelashes and a smile grew on his face.

I couldn't control myself from thinking out loud and drawlingly cooed, "Awww." Kelsi laughed softly, and strolled over to where our test tubes, cell plates, and samples were located.

One of his cerulean eyes shot open and beheld my gaze. I froze in place for a few seconds before his eye briefly closed and open again. _What the—?_ _Did he_ — _Did he just wink at me? Or was that my stupid subconscious trying to play tricks on me?_ His elbows pressed against the table, and I swore I saw his biceps flex as he pushed himself up to stand up straighter. I quickly turned away and paced across the room to help Kelsi carry the equipment to our lab table.

Troy was looking at his reflection in the glass of one of the fume hoods. He ran his left hands through his chestnut-colored hair. "Ah, I still have bed head. My hair looks messed up," he chuckled to himself.

Kelsi snorted, "That's too bad."

"Oh, please. Your hair is always perfectly coiffed." _How did that come out of my mouth? Seriously, Gabriella? Control your mouth._

Troy raised an eyebrow, "Coiffed, huh?" A smirk arose on his face, adorning his sharp jawline. I brushed it off by rolling my eyes and gathering the reagents to make the nutrient media for our cells. Daniel reported to us a few days ago that there may have been some contamination in our lab. He found some old liquid media with suspicious growth in a majority of the bottles.

Kelsi and I decided to measure out all of the powders and antibiotics for the new batch of growth media. Troy just stood around. And he was groaning about how he had nothing to do and how we didn't have to do anything else for our experiment. The protocol ordered for us to leave the cells to grow for two more days.

I jokingly muttered to Kelsi, "Slave driver."

He interjected, "What did you say, Gabriella?"

In response, I made this unsure-sounding, high pitched moan followed by, "Ahhhh, nothing," while Kelsi chortled.

He frowned in mock indignation, "You guys are so mean to me." Kelsi and I guffawed.

* * *

The next lab day, Kelsi and I worked on isolating Daniel's plasmid and set up transfection of his new cells. Troy did the so-called 'easy work' of collecting and harvesting our sporulated cells and freezing them thereafter.

While Kelsi and I were listening Daniel was explaining the protocol on the white board, Troy called me over.

Troy nodded at me and called gently, "Gabriella!"

He caught my attention, and turned my head to him, "Hmm?"

"Can you come here for a second?" he whispered as he nodded his head sideways, indicating for me to follow him.

He sauntered over to the microscope area and stopped before adjusting the slide, "Do those look like spores?"

I adjusted the microscope since my eyes were closer-set than his, and paused, "Can I zoom in?"

He shrugged affirmatively, "Go for it."

I looked through the scope and observed, "The stained things look like spores."

He pressed his lips together, "That's what I thought. I just wanted a second opinion to make sure."

I adjusted the tiny knob on the side of the microscope to move the slide, "What are those circular things?"

I looked up to find him rubbing the back of his neck, and he commented, "I think that's just the background." I stepped aside for him to have a look for himself.

I approved, "Yes. Those are definitely spores. You're fine." I thought to myself, _so fine._

He abruptly looked up from the scope, "What did you say?" He raised an strong eyebrow.

Heat rose to my cheeks as I swiftly turned my back to leave and return to Daniel and Kelsi. "Nothing," I stuttered and speed-walked away.

* * *

Even though Kelsi and I finished early, Troy was working on his protocol.

He protested, "You guys are so lucky. You can leave now. I still have to stay here."

"Why?" I queried, already putting my notebook and lab coat away.

He leaned his latex glove-covered hand on the table, "I have to wait for the centrifuge in the other room."

"We can wait for you," I conceded. I felt Kelsi nudge my arm.

"You mean, you can wait for him. I gotta jet. I have to DJ again tonight," she admitted, "I'll see you two next week!" She waved to Dr. Stein and Daniel and practically ran out of the room. In the meantime, I helped Troy retrieve some pipettes and put extra kits away in our lab table's drawers.

I lingered in the room until Troy was finished and started packing up. "You really didn't have to wait for me. I was just joking," he nudged my left elbow as I was writing in my agenda book with my right hand.

I gave him a sideways glance from my book and placed it in the large pocket of my bag, "That's all right. I don't have any more classes today anyway."

When he was waiting for me to leave first, I was fiddling around with my mechanical pencil and accidentally dropped in on the floor.

"I got it," Troy spoke.

I returned a simple 'thanks' as he rose to his feet and handed it back to me, and I tucked it into my bag. My mind fought with itself: _I don't ever want to use it again. I will keep it forever._ Gabriella, it probably has his germs on it. _His perfect germs._ How can you live with yourself?

Being the classic gentleman I perceive him to be, Troy held the door for me to leave. I thanked him and we made our way down the long spiral staircase, shoulder-to-shoulder.

Unexpectedly, he asked, "Any plans for the weekend?"

I responded, "Well, I'm going home so I'm probably going to play basketball with my little cousin."

He turns to me as we make our way down the stairs, "You play?" His grin flashed, seemingly impressed.

I chuckle a little with a smile, "I'm okay at it but my cousin is really good though."

"How old is he?" he inquires.

"He's fourteen. He just lost his tournament so I figured I could give him an ego boost."

"Do you know what level he plays? Sectionals? State? Or not yet."

I considered, "Not yet, I think."

"I used to play," he revealed with a proud grin.

"Oh? Were you any good?" I ribbed.

He sneered off into space, "Yeah, but that was a long, long time ago."

"I see."

We reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Have a good weekend!" he bellowed before going our separate ways.

"You too," I slightly smiled before heading to the north exit.


	7. Chapter 6: Such young love

A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter and the next. Happy Valentine's Day to all you Troyella lovers! I made this chapter extra long because I love you guys. I send love and light to all of you. x

* * *

Chapter 6: [Such young love]

 _"Remember the way you made me feel,_  
 _Such young love but_  
 _Something in me knew that it was real._  
 _Frozen in my head."_

 _-_ "Paper Hearts," song by Tori Kelly

Overachiever.

That's what he liked to call me. I guess you could say that was my "identifier," likewise, "drama queen" would be an identifier for Sharpay. I'm an "overachiever". Excuse me. Allow me to explain.

Nearing the end of the semester, we had to turn in our 'anonymous' evaluations for the laboratory class. Dr. Stein instructed us beforehand, not to put our names on the evaluation papers but to be sure to address any issues we may have had with the course, advise any recommendations, and to describe our overall experiences. All of our evaluations were to be collected by Daniel and reviewed later since this was technically a brand new class carrying on to the next semester. I liked it very much, and registered to continue in the fall.

Troy passed his paper to me to put in the yellow envelope, which we had to sign, indicating that each evaluation was enclosed. I didn't read what he wrote but I saw that he only had one sentence for each question.

He let out a low whistle, "Geez. Did you want to write more? Overachiever." He ended his playful jibe with an almost-hidden smirk adorning the corner of his lip.

I shrugged, playing along, "Yeah, I wrote an essay."

With a look of concern, he added, "Oh did you put your name on it?"

Now, I know that this thing is supposed to be anonymous. I made sure to write a note to myself in my agenda. I purposely did not put my name on it. Maybe he forgot.

I narrowed my eyebrows, looking from the paper to his eyes, "No, it's supposed to be anony—"?

He heartily chuckled and nodded, "You almost believed me there for a second, didn't you?"

I closed my eyes for a second but returned his gaze with a smile, "Yeah, a little bit."

Troy seemed a tad on edge today due to an impending exam for Stress Biology. His baby blue eyes were constantly glued to his notebook for almost the entire remainder of the class period. Kelsi and I persuaded him not to wait for us to re-feed the cells with media.

He bade "Good luck" to Kelsi and I, and left us to handle it.

I nudged his back with my elbow, and said, "No. You, good luck". _What the fuck was that, Gabi?_ I was immediately ashamed of my poor grammar. _Stupid, stupid Gabriella_. I was mentally punching myself in the face. _You should have just said 'Good luck to you too.'_

He sighed and turned his head to fleetingly glance at me, "I'm probably going to need the luck more than you guys."

* * *

The following lab day, I sat at the group area with my back to the lab rooms on the crescent shaped couch in the group-study alcove. My ears were occupied with buds as I was watching part four of a completed playthrough of _Bioshock Infinite_ on YouTube. Let me tell you. I was in love with this video game. The graphics, the story, the characters, the voice actors, everything was and is perfection. I highly recommend it. Half of my attention was focused on my laptop, resting on the low table in between the couches. At the same time, in my lap, I was writing in the numbers of finger placement for Death Cab for Cutie's "Transatlanticism" piano sheet music. I really wanted to finish playing this piece just for the sake of making sure I kept up with all my hobbies over the summer.

Taylor sat opposite from me, studying/filling out an index card for her 'cheat sheet' on her parasitology exam. Dr. Stein teaches that class when she can't attend lab. Apparently, she allows her parasitology students to write any notes on an index card for guidance during her exams. Josh, a fellow lab member in one of the other lab groups, was on my right eating a hoagie for lunch.

Suddenly, Taylor and Josh were staring at me, _errr_ actually behind me.

I look behind me first to my left, then my right, and finally up with my eyes meeting his chin. There he is. _I internally sigh._ _Damn him for being so attractive_.

"Hey," I simply say while looking up at him, removing one ear bud. He's not looking back at me, however. His eyes are focused on my laptop.

He half-smiles and inquires, "What are you watching?"

" _Bioshock Infinite_ ," I lift my head to look back my writing, my eyes scanning the notes but also flickering up to look at him. Troy moved across the couches and sat opposite me, next to Taylor.

"That's what I thought. Is that just the trailer?" he questions me, putting his backpack down on the floor.

"No, it's a playthrough."

His lips pressed together, and his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek. "That's no fun," he jeered, "You shouldn't watch the playthrough. You should _do_ the playthrough."

My back slid against the couch and I slouched, "Mmm, too lazy. And I don't have money."

He disbelievingly retorted with his classic chuckle, "Isn't it like fifteen dollars?"

"Not the last time I checked," I shook my head, "The price has probably went down by now…Plus, Macs suck at gaming." I was too busy making excuses.

He rolled his eyes with a simper, "Macs suck at everything."

Taylor suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my God! I have like two minutes before my exam starts. Why didn't you tell me?" She scowls at me, "You're such a bad friend!"

My eyes increase in size as I lift myself up to sit up straight, "I'm sorry! I got…distracted. Good luck!"

Taylor continued on with her episode, "Oh my God. It's going to be terrible." She gathers her bag and books, sprinting past the couches, down the hallway, and descends the huge spiral staircase. I'm guessing her classroom was in one of the glass rooms on the first floor.

Troy lifts his eyes to follow Taylor's trail, "Wow. She's really going for it. She's actually running."

Without even bothering to look over, I mutter, "Yup."

He takes out a tall water bottle and takes a swig, "It's just parasitology, right? The class that she's worried about?"

I affirmed, still focused on my sheet music, "Yup, parasitology."

* * *

While I was editing the protocol for the growth assay to put on the course website, Troy was messing with the agar plates we left in our drawer.

He pressed his index finger against the jello-like substance. He motioned for Kelsi to do the same.

Kelsi cocked her head to the side, "How will we know which fingerprint is whose?"

Troy simply replied, "Well, yours is the smallest…but I'll write our names just in case." I didn't want to make it seem obvious that I was eavesdropping on their banter. Honestly, a tinge of jealousy shot through my veins, pretending not to look at the pair. I fixated my attention on the protocol and my typing fingers.

I didn't even notice Troy as he snuck up to my side and whispered, "Psst, Gabriella. Put your finger here." He opened the lid to the agar plate, which displayed both his and Kelsi's fingerprints.

I smiled softly, "Which one?"

"Doesn't matter. Any one," he shrugged.

I stuck my thumb out as he pointed to the corner of the plate without any markings.

"Yes," he stressed the "s" sound, and curled his fist approvingly as I pressed my thumb lightly on the agar and let out a small laugh. He covered the plate and tucked it into our lab table's top drawer.

* * *

It was kind of awkward being around Troy and Kelsi since they like to talk about drinking. A lot. I never expected it to happen. I didn't even think Kelsi would like to drink since she's so petite and is probably a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I don't drink. They were talking while Kelsi was referring cells for transfection with the new media we made, including the antibiotic. I hardly noticed Troy asking me a question.

Repeating his question, he pronounced my name, "Gabriella, What are you doing over the break? **"**

I waved off my daydream, and honestly responded, "I don't know. I might go on vacation… not sure."

He licked his lips, and lifted an eyebrow, "How can you not know?"

I explained, "Well, sometimes my mom just asks, 'Do you want to go somewhere?' and I say, 'Sure, why not?'."

"Spontaneous vacations are always good," he commented.

Kelsi returned her pipette and disposed of the plastic covering, asked Troy, "What are you doing during break?"

He rubbed his glove-covered hands together, "I'm going to teach my sister how to drink."

Kelsi snickered, "Corrupting the youth?"

"Yeah she's just going into St. John's. She'll be nearby."

"Oh really?" Kelsi pipetted the media and spoke without maintaining her attention on Troy, "My cousin is going there too. Maybe they'll be friends!"

Troy gave Kelsi a weird look as she laughed at her own speculation, "Yeah, she's been here to visit me enough to know how to drink…but St. John's is a bar school. They don't just drink; they go out to bars."

"I don't like doing that very much," she shook her head, "…but I like happy hour."

I awkwardly stood behind Troy as he observed Kelsi's technique for the experiment. He ended up leaving a little early because he wanted lunch. Ah, boys and their ever-insatiable appetites. He left Kelsi and I to work on most of the experimental information. He wore a gray polo today underneath his labcoat, and as always, his scent was equivalent to what I imagined to be the scent of heaven.

Later in the day, I noticed that same gray polo on a guy that was seated at the back of one of the glass-encased classrooms. I remembered that Troy had an exam that day so he was probably studying ahead of the start of the looming test.

Taylor tugged on my arm as she saw that I was nearing the glass-encased classroom. "What are you doing?" she scolded at me, a hint of humor in her voice.

"Look at his back, Taylor. Those muscles, are you serious?" without shame, I stared at him.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Just ask him out, for goodness sake!"

"I can't. You know I'm not the kind of girl to be bold and ask him…" I trailed off and gaped at the glorious sight. "…but look at him. Look. _Let me love you_." I whisper voyeuristically with a strained voice.

Taylor pokes my side, trying to hold in her laughter at my dramatics while pulling me away from the classroom. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'm the drama queen, not Sharpay.

* * *

I wanted to know what Troy's reaction was when I was watching that _Bioshock Infinite_ playthrough. I couldn't see him behind me and Taylor could. I decided to set up a one-on-one girl talk with her, a heart to heart session over Starbucks at Garan Hall. I bought a tall green tea frappuccino, and she got a grande hot chamomile tea.

Taylor dove right in, "I like to look up whenever someone passes or comes my way, and I smiled when I saw him but I continued writing and decided not to say anything. And he had this amused expression on his face and he didn't just stand there for one second. It was maybe longer than five seconds. He was probably thinking, 'Hmm. This quiet girl likes _Infinite_.'" She grinned at me, excitedly.

I was internally screaming. She suggested that if I want to maintain a friendship with Troy, I should suggest we all go out as a lab group to lunch.

But I just can't bring myself to do that.

We talked about Sam, the TA Taylor has major crush on, her new roommate, finals, problems with our slacking chemistry group member Sean, just letting it all out. I talked about how I promised myself back in high school that I would make at least one guy friend. I don't know if it's too late now.

I told her pretty much everything about him. Taylor is my confidant. Sharpay will sometimes bitch at me or bitch behind my back to someone, namely to one of her "Sharpettes," Emma. College was almost like a loss-of-innocence period for me. I've known Sharpay since my freshman year in college, and I thought she was so nice, sweet, and fashionable. It wasn't until this year I actually overheard her laughing and nitpicking at my "weird habits" to Emma when Emma slept over at our apartment. She and Emma were making fun of how I would speak in Spanish to my mom over the phone, and how I "should speak English. This is America for fucksake". Needless to say, I was hurt. I didn't think I would be but I actually cried. I cried in my room at the foot of my bed with my knees drawn in. How could she be so petty, but more importantly, _how could I_ be so petty to cry over something so insignificant? I dried off my tears and decided to just move on. I was still nice to Sharpay. She was still my friend but I decided that there were worse things Sharpay could have said about me. She could've been the worst roommate imaginable who would sleep with different guys every night. That would be a nightmare. I wouldn't be able to sleep or study.

I told Sharpay about Troy anyway. I even told her about Taylor's suggestion of getting lunch with Troy and Kelsi.

I told her I just couldn't do it, and she said, "Why not?! Taylor and I would be very disappointed in you if you don't! What have you got to lose?" I continued on to her about how it's sometimes awkward because Kelsi and him talk about drinking, and I can't contribute to the conversation. Sharpay brought up that he might not be my type since he probably doesn't share the same morals as I do since he drinks practically twice a week. I can agree with that. I concluded that I would pursue our common interest of gaming but ONLY IF it comes up but other than that…I'm letting go…Yup. If this guy doesn't share the same morals as I do, if he has to include alcohol in his lifestyle, maybe he's not the guy for me.

* * *

Earlier the following lab day, Sharpay lay on couch, looking up from her laptop as I was prepared to head out the door.

"I guess we will be expecting you to come home later than usual," she sipped her chai tea latte. I shook my head, incredulous at her statement. She was alluding to me potentially asking Troy and Kelsi to have lunch together with me. I could hear her yelling, "Why not?" as I locked the door from the outside. As much as Sharpay could be mean, she could also be supportive.

Daniel found our agar plate with our fingerprints when he cleaning out the lab drawers on the last day of class. I couldn't stop myself from laughing when he held up the plate and asked, "What are these?" Troy joined my laughter and hesitantly explained. Daniel let us look at the plate under the microscope, and we didn't have any contamination.

I'm being completely blunt, and for a man in his thirties, Daniel doesn't have a lot of hair. He's balding. He was talking about how his hair started falling out when he was 27. Troy fretted that when he runs his fingers through his hair, he can tell that some of it falls out. And when he ran his fingers through his hair, _heavy sigh_ …I want to run my fingers through his hair. I hope his hair isn't falling out profusely because that would not be a good look on him. He still smells so good. His cologne seems milder now since I've been around him so much.

During lab, I think he was watching a trailer or a playthrough of a video game, and I did glance over. I wasn't sure if he was trying to elicit a reaction from me. Afterwards, he was live streaming basketball from his laptop. The New York Knicks were battling the Boston Celtics. We called Dr. Stein over to look at our protocol and she gave us her approval.

Dr. Stein expressed her observations, "Oh, you did some extra work Troy." Troy's palm met his forehead lightly. "But that's okay!" she patted his arm.

I pointed to Troy's laptop screen when I pulled up the course page, "Here are the experiments."

"Wonderful," she confirmed and looked at each of us, "I want to thank all of you for all your hard work and initiative, and don't forget to have a safe, fun break!" Kelsi, Troy, and I thanked her. Troy switched his browser's tab back to the game.

"Is it just the first quarter?" I asked.

His eyes were absorbed in his laptop, "No, it's passed that."

"My cousin and uncle actually went to the game on Tuesday," I spoke.

"Oh yeah?" he probed, adjusting his gaze toward me.

"I used to go a lot when I was little…but then my cousin was born, and my uncle decided to take him instead of me."

"Oh that sucks," he sympathized genuinely, "I haven't been to a playoff round but I've been to qualifiers."

Kelsi ran out of lab once we were done for the day. I concluded to myself that it would be uncomfortable for me to just ask, "Want to get food?" with just him and I. However, I now have a connection to him and this is the absolute closest I have ever gotten to him. So I'm actually proud of myself for having a little courage today.

Troy semi-waited for me after we were done for lab. We ended up walking out together and bid goodbye to Dr. Stein and our way down the spiral staircase, I asked him again what classes he was taking for the fall.

I attempted to nonchalantly look through my phone and lingered until he caught up to me on the stairs, "Hey, Troy. What classes are you taking again next term?

He listed them off the top of his head, and my brain clicked when he didn't mention Forensic Science, as I remembered him doing so previously.

I remarked, "I thought you said something about Forensic Science before.

Lifting his hand from his temple, he perked up, "Oh yeah. It's an online class. That's probably why it slipped my mind."

"I remember taking that in freshman year," I thought aloud.

"Was it easy?"

"Yeah, it was pretty easy even though it's a 300 level class…I don't know why I took it freshman year but I still have my notes and I could send them to you."

"Okay," he nodded, "I'll shoot you an email once fall term picks up again, once all classes are situated and such… And _you_ have to keep me updated on how the lab course goes when it picks up again in the fall."

"Oh yeah. Will do." We were walking together out of the science building out the exit near the bathrooms.

He paused his steps, turning his body in a different direction. "So… I'll guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah," I bit my lip, "Have a great break!"

"You too!" he called over his shoulder.

I'm guessing we're kind of keeping in touch. Sort of. I don't know. I think I have a guy-acquaintance. _Squeal_.

I started walking off in the direction of my apartment.

I heard his voice unexpectedly call, "Wait, Gabriella!"

"Yes?" I whipped around, startled.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he jogged over to me.

Bewildered, I touched my chin, "I'm not exactly sure yet. I know I have to pack before break starts. Why?"

"Is there any way I could maybe see you?" His eyes searched mine—for what? I couldn't tell.

"See me?" I repeated his words, utterly dazed.

"Yeah. Would you be free for dinner on Saturday night or something?" His left hand played with the side of his jeans.

Shocked, I managed to move my head up and down, "Um sure…I'd like that."

His teeth raked across his bottom lip as he lifted his chin, "Cool. Meet me outside of this building at the main entrance, let's say five o' clock?"

"Okay," I couldn't stop myself from beaming.


	8. Chapter 7: Already got me

A/N: I suck at updating regularly. What else is new? I've been in a bit of a personal, existential crisis lately. I've been learning that I have too many regrets and ambition is my worst enemy. This chapter is way overdue. I really wanted to instill somewhat of an ethereal quality for this chapter. Let me know if I succeeded or not.

* * *

Chapter 3: Already got me

" _Take me there, take me there._ _  
_ _I'll dive in the sky, oh the water's alive._ _  
_ _I'll float down to soak in the stars._ _  
_ _Swim away from the night, I am swallowed by light._ _  
_ _Suddenly love doesn't seem very far._

 _Here in this castle that sits on a cloud,_ _  
_ _Something consumes this heart, rooted deep down._ _  
_ _Now slowly I'm falling_ _  
_ _But I don't need saving._ _  
_ _You've already got me._ _  
_ _You've already got me."_

 _-_ "Celestial", song by Tori Kelly

The deep rose and ginger sky was set ablaze by the impending sunset. I stood outside the entrance of the science building, where Troy told me to meet him. It seemed pretty early for the sun to be setting considering the current season of summer. My eyes got lost in the mixture of colors as I crossed my hands and rubbed the arms of my sweater. I hope he didn't stand me up. I really thought he was a good guy. Maybe I'm just overthinking again. _Calm down, Gabriella._ It's been only five minutes after the hour. If an hour passes, I'll know this probably was a stupid, cruel joke. I'll just grab some take-out and watch a _Chopped_ marathon on _Food Network_ tonight.

I didn't really know what to wear for this so-called date. I wore a simple, bohemian-patterned romper, sandals, and a cardigan. I wasn't sure if he was taking me somewhere fancy or somewhere casual so I opted for dressing somewhere in-between the extremes. I'm pretty sure it's date. I hope so. _Oh course, it's a date_. _Don't be stupid, Gabriella._ Okay, conscience. I've had enough of you now. I'm not exactly sure why I'm second-guessing myself. I guess I just really can't believe it. My crush asked me out. _What? This kind of thing never happens to me._

This is the kind of shit that happens in my dreams. I wonder if he knows I like him. I mean, he has to, _right_? He made the first move in asking me out. The strap of my purse felt heavier on my shoulder with each minute that passed by. I glanced at my watch again.

5:08PM.

Only three minutes passed by. Wow. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and watched cars zoom down the main road and people trod along the sidewalks. Was I at the right entrance? I'm ninety-nine percent sure he meant this one. Maybe I should check the other one. My right foot stepped forward in that direction before I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

"Whoa, overachiever, where are you going?"

My head whipped around, and sure enough there he was. His hair was perfectly coiffed as usual. His hairline sported a messy quiff. He wore a heather blue t-shirt and some dark shorts. His tongue peeked from between his lips before I caught glimpse of his pearly whites.

"I thought you were maybe at the other entrance so I was going to check," I bewilderedly explained.

His left hand reached behind his neck. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. I had to get something from a friend."

I shook my head understandingly, "It's no problem. You're not _that_ late. Where are we going?"

"I have some ideas," he nodded as his hand rubbed the underside of his chin, "but I want to know what you like before I take you anywhere."

I pressed my lips together, attempting to hold in my excitement and prevent a stupid smile from appearing on my face. He wants my approval. _How_ _cute_. I gave my best attempt at a pleased look.

"So…" he trailed off for a moment, "Would you say you're more of a burger girl or are you a vegetarian? Do you like Greek food or—?"

I felt my mouth water when he said burger and felt the need to interrupt, "I could definitely go for a burger right now."

"All right," his eyebrows lifted, "Shake Shack, it is." He cocked his head to one side to motion me to step in line, in the direction he began walking. "Have you been there before?"

"Oh, I've been there once. They have stand in Citi Field," my eyes met his, "I remember their shakes tasting amazingly."

"So you're a baseball fan, too, I presume," he inquired, "I never pegged you for a Mets fan."

"Yup. I'm from New York, and my family and I are diehard Mets fans," I watched our strides synchronize with each other.

"That's cool," he remarked, "I'm more of a basketball kind of guy but I'm sure you've figured that out already." He turned his head to face me and simpered coyly.

"Well, considering that you've spent almost all our lab breaks watching the playoffs, I would say so," I joked.

He chuckled in response, "It's no secret." A short silence passed before he said, "Shake Shack is about a 20 minute walk—a little over a mile. Is that all right?"

I looked straight ahead as we crossed the street, "That's doable. I don't mind walking. I'm glad I decided to wear sandals instead of heels."

"I'm glad you did too," he faintly nudged my shoulder with his, "I don't have a car with me on campus so I wouldn't have been able to drive us."

"Well, you didn't exactly tell me what to wear tonight," I slyly replied.

His upper set of teeth caught his bottom lip, "I'm sorry. I should have given you more details but I wanted it to be a surprise."

"You sure surprised me," I muttered.

He abruptly stopped walking after he heard the comment I made—a comment that he wasn't supposed to hear. "What does that mean?" he asked simply. I slowed down my pace to look back at him.

"Never mind," I grimaced, shrugged, and shook my head, staring at the concrete sidewalk, "It's nothing."

He nodded sluggishly, seemingly unsatisfied with my response but continued walking alongside me.

I ordered a Shack Burger, and a strawberry shake. He got the same but instead of a strawberry shake, he got a chocolate one. We shared an order of the curly cheese fries. I insisted on paying for my order and half of the price for the fries, but he wouldn't allow it. He lightly shoved my wallet back into my purse when I was about to take it out and whip out some cash.

"I got this," his eyes shined its classic blue.

I felt obligated to respond, "Are you sure?" This is the 21st century, and I can pay for my half. He nodded, and the corners of his lips rose. I just couldn't bring myself to insist any further.

Our conversation over the meal was benign but mostly quiet. We talked about our undergraduate careers thus far and predicted what was to come in the approaching semesters. After throwing out our leftover wrappers and cups, we walked to the nearest subway stop.

Troy waved his hand for me to follow him down the stairs to the subway, or the "T" as Boston natives call it. The subway car we shuffle into is pretty crowded and bustling with people. All of the seats were taken. Troy led us to a corner near another set of closed sliding doors and reached for a horizontal metal bar perched above us. I settled to hold onto a similar metal pole nearby, anchored vertically to the floor and ceiling on either side. I stared at my toes peeking out of my sandals. I really should have redone painting my toenails. They were painted a sea foam green color, which reminded me of beach photography of Turks and Caicos. I have never been but Sharpay says it is heavenly. Traveling to the beaches in Providenciales are absolutely positively on my bucket list. I looked up and realized Troy and I were standing a lot closer than I originally thought. His warm blue eyes bore into mine, and I found my gaze slowly dropping to his lips, which curved upward. I returned his grin and had to look down at my feet again. I couldn't look him in the eyes without the fear of blushing and turning beet red.

After a number of stops, and transferring onto another subway train, nearly an hour had passed. We got off after the sixth stop, and ran up the steps amidst the crowds. I took in the bright, blinding green lights after we walked out of the station.

"Are we going to TD Garden?" I flippantly asked, almost jokingly.

He put his hands up in surrender and laughed, "All right, all right. You caught me."

"No, wait. Are we really?—Are we going to the game?" The mix of shock and excitement was revealed by my tone.

He rolled his eyes playfully and commented sarcastically, "No! We're just going to stand outside the arena…" His smile couldn't hide under his pseudo-serious expression. "Of course! New York is playing the Celtics, and I've got the tickets." He reached into his back pocket and showed me the two entry passes.

"What?" my mouth dropped open, "Are you serious?" I looked up at him to see his simultaneously amused and puzzled expression.

"Yes," he bit his lower lip, and suddenly grabbed my hand, walking in the direction of the entrance.

"Wha—" I stumbled since I didn't move my feet from where I was standing but quickly caught up to his pace. His hand felt quite large, and his palm felt hot against mine.

He tilted his head to his right, and looked back at me, "Come on. We need to get to our seats before someone else takes them."

I couldn't prevent the most likely stupidly wide, toothy grin from showing on my face when we went up the escalators. Troy got tickets for some really good seats. And by really good I mean _fantastic_. These were probably the best seats I've ever had the privilege of sitting in. We were even lower than the mezzanine level but not as crazy as courtside but _still_!

Troy called over a vendor selling popcorn, and paid for the snack, rolling his eyes as I made a second attempt to pay for something. I couldn't help it.

"What made you decide to take me here?" There goes my word vomit again.

He turned to me, raising an eyebrow, "So my buddy Andrew had tickets to this game—I was actually a little late in meeting you because I had to get them from him. He was supposed to take his girlfriend." Troy grasped a handful of popcorn in hand, and put three pieces in his mouth before continuing, "It turned out that he forgot that his frat had a mandatory meeting so he gave them to me."

I nodded, taking some popcorn from the bag.

"When I was thinking about my plus one, my first thought went to you…and when we talked about playoffs in lab," he looked up at me, unknowingly pulling at my heartstrings. He smacked his lips together, his eyes lighting up, "I'm glad I asked you."

"Technically, you didn't ask me," I remark haughtily.

"That's true," he admitted, "Then…I'm glad I brought you here."

"Nice save," I elbow the side of his torso. He chuckles.

Now, I can get pretty fervent when it comes to watching sports events, that is, except when it comes to tennis. But basketball can bring out the worst in me. The last game I went to with my family, I yelled so much that the following day, I lost my voice. I tried to keep myself restrained until I realized that Troy didn't hold back.

"That was a foul!"

"Um, no it wasn't. Sullinger was just _acting_ like he was hurt." My eyes were on the game. The popcorn was almost finished.

He turned his head to look at me, "Lopez clearly shoved him with his shoulder."

I met his gaze, shaking my head, "I beg to disagree."

"I really should've thought twice about bringing a supporter for the away team," he jibed.

"Why? That wouldn't be any fun," I shrugged. He chuckled heartily, and patted my knee.

* * *

"Wipe that smirk off your face," his eyes narrowed, "You have bragging rights. Go ahead." He passed a hand through his hair.

I giggled, "Ha-ha. We're leading the series, three games to two."

"We can always tie it up in the next game!"

"We'll just have to see about that. I smell a championship for the Knicks!"

We made our way out of the arena. So many other people were shuffling in front and behind us. There was only a five-point difference between the Celtics and the Knicks so most people stayed until the final seconds. My New York team pulled through. Troy put his left arm around my shoulders and held me fairly close. I put my arm around his waist, finding a belt loop to secure my finger. I breathed in his aromatic cologne that wafted into my nose.

"You okay?" he practically whispered against my hair.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I pressed my lips together, "My team won. Now I can go home, and rest easy."

He straightened up, "Do you want me to take you home now?"

I glanced at my watch. It was 10:24. I met his eyes again, "What did you have in mind?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere else too—somewhere we could just talk," his words lowered in volume as he reached the end of his sentence.

"You're not some crazy guy who will take me down an alley and kill me, right?"

An offended look graced his handsome features. A beat of a pause passed. My word vomit really _needs_ to stop.

"Right…Listen. I'll take you there halfway, and then I'll let you decide if you want me to take you home or not. Deal?," he gently insisted.

"That seems fair," I reasoned.

With my hand still nestled in his, he led me back to the "T" subway station. We took the Blue Line followed by the #712 bus. I hope he couldn't feel my sweaty palm. In spite of my concern, I didn't want to let go of the feeling of the warmth of his hand on mine.

Troy unexpectedly whispered in my right ear, "The next stop is ours."

I noticed a guy with spiky black hair about our age across from us on the bus. He nodded at me once I looked in his eyes. Once again, Troy and I were standing, holding onto the pole near the exit of the bus. I felt Troy's hand at the small of my back pushing me closer to his chest. I looked in his clear blue eyes, which looked worried and apprehensive. I returned his gaze with a reassuring smile, and reached up with my left hand to stroke his forearm. I watched as his stare lifted presumably to the guy who was looking at me. His jaw tightened. His eyes hardened at the stranger before I heard the bus driver call our stop and exit doors open. I gave Troy's hand a tug. He looked at me, half-smiled, and followed me down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

He brought me to the entrance of the ferry, and looked at the people lined up for the next boat.

"Are you okay with me taking you the Harbor Islands? Or do you want me to take you home? Last chance," his smile showed some teeth.

"I've never been…," the hesitant part of me let out, but the daring side of me spoke, "Let's go."

* * *

We sat on the grass at a clearing of green. Far off in the distance, the water consumed ground and faded into the twinkling city lights. Boats and ferries waded a distance from the shore. A few couples walked along a path that outlined the shore with rails. Troy made no hesitation to plop down on the grass on his back, his eyes looking into the night sky.

"Ah, that feels good after walking for so long," he huffed.

"You can say that again," I knelt on the ground next to him and shifted my body so that I lay on my side with my right arm propping me up.

"Are you excited to go back home tomorrow?" he asked with his eyes still on the sky.

"Yeah, I guess," I sighed while ripping handfuls blades of grass from the soft earth. "I miss my parents and my cousins the most. I guess I really am a 'family' kind of girl." I looked at him as a firefly sparked between us. His eyes traced the firefly's path before shifting his head to look at me. I nudged his shoulder with mine, "Are you excited?"

"Not really uh…I promised my mom I would help her around the house. I'm not looking forward to it," he stared at my hands, which were still ripping up grass.

"Don't you miss her?" I teased, "Are you mama's boy?"

The skin around his eyes wrinkled, and he bared his teeth. "Okay, yeah I am not afraid to admit I am a mama's boy. I do miss her," he confessed.

"You have one more year here, right?" I whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" he whispered back and simpered when I giggled. He paused before answering my question, "Yeah, I have one more year. Come two weeks from now, I'll officially be a senior in college…I applied to bunch of med schools so I'm playing the waiting game…Are you applying too?"

"How'd you guess?" I failed to hide my subtle amusement.

"Lucky guess. A lot of other biology majors are applying too…Plus, you're an overachiever, so…" he ribbed.

I shook my head at him in disbelief. I received a smile from his face as a sign of gratitude, of understanding. Everything just felt natural, despite my previously anxious, nervous demeanor.

His hands cushioned the back of his head as he lay on the grass. A hint of a grain graced his lips, "I may or may not have overheard you say something about me."

I felt my cheeks heat up. I wondered if he could see me blush in spite of the dark haze of the evening. "Oh no," I breathed through my grimace.

He leaned on his side, facing me, "What? No, no it's not bad!" He raised an eyebrow. My grimace persisted. "Remember when I asked you about the spores under the microscope in lab?" I nodded twice. "And you said, 'Yes, those are definitely spores. You're fine'."

My eyes shut tightly as I knew what he was going to say next. _Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit._

He smirked while recalling, "You walked away but added, ' _Soooo fine_.'" My hands immediately covered my face in embarrassment. _Gabriella, how could you? I thought I said it in my head._

After he let out a hearty laugh as his chest trembled with mirth, I shamefully moaned, mortified at his discovery of my crush on him. "Well, I just _humiliated_ myself into the next century."

He shook his head, outwardly amused. "No, come on," he reassured, "That's when I knew I absolutely had to ask you to come with me to the game tonight…I found out you were attracted to me, too."

I could feel my eyes widen, "You think _I'm_ attractive?"

"Remember when I said 'nothing' when you asked me what I was looking at?" I nodded once. "…Well, to be completely honest I was checking you out." I avoided his gaze, trying to find something interesting about the leaves of the tree hovering above us. Imaginary butterflies floated from the base of my lungs to the apex. "When you wear shorts like that you have to know that guys can't help but stare…" I shook my head in disbelief. "Come on, you _have_ to know that you're _fucking_ _adorable_."

I rolled my eyes, and giggled awkwardly while chewing on my bottom lip. I didn't know how to respond to that. When I looked back at him after about a minute passed, his eyes met mine. The lot of his attention was apparently studying my face. The corners of lips were angled softly upward.

* * *

A/N: I don't own Shake Shack but I wish I did because damn, I love their burgers. I don't own Chopped or Food Network either. And if there are any diehard basketball fans among my reviewers, I know that NBA playoffs do not happen in the summer but for the sake of the setting of this story I made it that way. Other than that, in terms of inaccuracy, the Boston Harbor Park ferries do not run very late in the evening. I'm just saying.


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